Eden's Promise (10 page)

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jodie’s voice said from the entrance of the tent. “But I thought you’d want to know right away. We found your sister’s name in the books.”

“Kelly’s name?” Eden shoved off the cot and stepped over him in one fluid move. She snatched the book from Jodie’s arms and stared where the other woman pointed.

“Does it say who she was with? When she was here?”

“November, right after it happened, and she stayed until March. She was with a man, it looks like, because the name below it, Jake, is written in the same handwriting.”

“Does it say where they went when they left here?” Aaron asked, pushing to his feet to look at the book upside down.

She traced her finger along the line on the page, then looked up at him. “California.”

Chapter Seven

California
. It might as well be Mars. No way would they get to California from here in the next three days. Even if she could convince Aaron to give her more time—would they be able to get back to the island while her mother was still...?

She couldn’t think the word.
 

Aaron took the book from her, turned it around. She kept her attention on his face, trying to read his expression.

“How can we get to California?” he asked, closing the book and passing it back to Jodie. “You have supply convoys, right? Do they go from here to California?”

“Usually the other way.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “No chance of us getting a ride down?”

“Let me check my schedule.”

Eden wasn’t going to wait for the woman to come back with the news, or perhaps get distracted on the way, waylaid by someone else’s problem. She fell into step with Jodie and followed her to the office. The woman went straight to a shelf with a row of file folders, neat as a pin, and laid one out on her desk.

Even in the apocalypse, there was paperwork. The thought almost made her giggle as the woman scanned the page, dragging her finger along it. Jodie looked up, almost startling her.
 

“We have a truck leaving here in two days. I can get you on it, but you’ll have to ride in the cargo section. It can get pretty cold.”

Eden opened her mouth to agree, but she wasn’t in this alone. She turned just as Aaron walked in. He had his deadline, but perhaps, now that they knew Kelly was alive, where she was, he’d extend it.
 

“Aaron. Two days.”

“I heard.” He met her gaze. “She might not still be there. Maybe we could get your radio operator to give a shout out?” he asked Jodie.

“Good idea.” Jodie closed the folder and rounded the desk. “We don’t have someone on the radio all the time anymore to conserve fuel, just between five and ten, in case there’s news from back east. We can put out a call then—the operators in California should be on at the same time.”

Aaron turned to Eden. “Will you sleep now?”

“Will we go? If we find out she’s there? Will we go?”

“We’ll find a way,” he said quietly. “Go get some sleep.”

She crossed the room and looked into his eyes a long moment. His gaze didn’t waver—did anything about him waver? She wanted to take his hand, pull him back to the tent, lay down with him until she slept. Instead, she slipped past him and returned to the quiet tent. Relief burst from her in tears that shook her until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

Eden wandered toward the mess hall after dark, after waking to an empty tent. Funny how she didn’t think much about what time it was when she was home—their days were regulated by daylight, and once the sun went down, most people were in their homes. But now she found herself wondering what time it was, how long she’d been asleep.

Apparently the mess hall was the social center of the camp. She heard music when she slipped into the building, and rounded the corner to see a young woman playing an acoustic guitar up near the food line, which was closed. Too bad, because of course now her stomach rumbled.

She scanned the crowd and found Aaron sitting near the far wall beside Jodie. He was watching the performer, but when Eden walked in, he turned to look at her, gifting her with a smile she hadn’t seen since he was a teenager. He half-rose and beckoned her over. The warmth spreading through her was more than the familiarity of seeing him. She wasn’t sure she was ready to put a name to it, not yet. She approached, to see Jodie shifting away in her folding chair, an odd expression on her face.
 

Eden sat across from Aaron. He pushed a plate toward her with a sandwich and a small square—

“Is that a brownie?”

Her exclamation carried through the hall as the music died, and she ducked her head in embarrassment. Aaron leaned forward, his grin wide, so handsome. The warmth spread.

“You don’t know how I had to fight to save that for you. Want to see the battle scars?”

For a moment she feared he would show her some damage bestowed on him by Jodie, who seemed a little miffed that Eden had showed up. But then she remembered that Jodie thought she and Aaron were married.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a small smile. She used all her willpower not to dig into the brownie first. Instead she bit into the sandwich, with fresh bread, fresh tomatoes and lettuce and—”Cheese?” She looked up at Aaron. She hadn’t had cheese in almost as long as she hadn’t had chocolate.

This time Jodie chuckled. “One thing the government has is cheese.”

It was delicious, creamy, sharp, and combined with the homemade bread, one of the best meals she’d ever had. She washed it down with tea and eyed the brownie for a long moment before she tasted a crumb. It wasn’t quite right, not as good as the cheese, but she savored each bite, then turned to watch the young woman singing at the front of the room. She recognized some of the songs, though they were arranged differently. She wondered if the young woman took requests.
 

Some of the people sang along, and Eden opened her mouth to join in, only to shut it again when she saw Aaron watching her.

“That’s one thing I’ve missed most,” she murmured. “Music.”

“More than chocolate?” His mouth quirked.

“I would listen to music all the time before. My dad didn’t want me to get an MP3 player, because when everything went to hell, what good would it be? He was right, but I listened to that thing every day until the power died. Even then, when we had the generator going, I’d sneak a charge.”

He leaned a little closer. “What kind of music did you like?”

She waved a hand. “All kinds. Alternative, classic rock, some country. You?”

“I had my favorites.”

The young woman finished a song and Aaron rose, surprising her at the abrupt move. He made his way through the room toward the young woman, bent and whispered something to her. The young woman smiled, lifted the guitar over her head and handed it to him.

Eden’s heart kicked when he looped the guitar strap over his own head and sat on the stool. He flashed an uneasy smile in Eden’s direction, did a few test strums before he began a melodic tune. She didn’t recognize it until his low, surprisingly smooth baritone began to sing the old John Lennon song. Her chest swelled with pride and desire as his fingers moved over the strings, as his voice dipped and soared. God, she’d admired him forever and hadn’t known he had this talent.

After the song, he rolled into another, more upbeat song, and then a love song—one Eden had listened to over and over on her iPod, one she’d loved, but never as much as she loved it now. He met her gaze across the room and lust shot straight to her belly as he sang of need and loss. The words, carried across the room on his sexy voice, wrapped around her until she was aware of nothing but him and her.

Jodie stood then and drew attention by clapping her hands.
 

“I hate to call an end to this, but it’s time for lights out. We need to conserve our fuel.”

Aaron handed the guitar back to the young woman and headed down the aisle between the tables, stopped more than once by listeners who complimented his playing, his song choice. He smiled and nodded, but when he reached Eden, the expression on his face was unreadable. He linked his fingers through hers and guided her from the hall, slowing only a few seconds when someone commented on his performance. He adjusted his hand on hers, strengthening his grip as he led her down the steps and across the yard, through the other people leaving, toward their tent.

Her heart thundered as he opened the flap, pulled her inside, then turned her to him. Without a word, he scooped her hair back from her face and covered her mouth with his. Her knees sagged and she gripped his hard shoulders, holding herself against his chest.
 

There was nothing gentle in his kiss, his lips firm, his tongue stroking her lips apart, sliding between them, claiming. Claiming her. Her skin tingled—she’d dreamed of this since she was a girl, when she was learning her own body and what pleasure was, and wanted him to be the one to teach her. His breath came hot and strong, the only sound in the tent, his fingers curling in the fine hair at the back of her neck, almost painful, his other hand pressing against the small of her back, holding her against him so she could feel his arousal.
 

All her common sense scattered in the flood of want, and she angled her head to take his tongue deeper, to press her breasts against his chest. His fingers at her back crept beneath the hem of her shirt, warm and rough on her skin, and the caress sent skitters of desire downward. She glided her hands from his shoulders to slide beneath his own T-shirt, over hard abs, smooth skin covered with the softest hair, up over his belly, feeling nothing now but his mouth on hers, his flesh beneath her palms.
 

Until he released her.

Shaking, she stared at him. He held her gaze, stepping back, and stripped off first his shirt, then hers. His eyes drifted down to her breasts, swelling above the cups of the crappy bra that had seen better days. But he didn’t seem to mind, instead sliding both hands from her waist to cup them, lift them, drag the cups down with his thumbs, baring her nipples to him.

A soft whimper escaped her and heat flooded her face when he snapped his gaze back to hers. He didn’t say anything, and she covered his hands with hers, holding them to her. He eased closer, one foot between hers so she was even more off-balance, and lowered his mouth to take her nipple into his mouth.

This time the whimper was a moan as she arched her back, pressing her hips into his, parting her legs enough that he could slip his thigh between. His mouth was hot and not at all gentle as he pulled her breast into his mouth, suckling her, flicking his tongue over the tender flesh. Desire surged between her legs and she pushed against his thigh.

He released her breast and dragged his lips up the side of her throat, pausing beneath her ear for a moment before he covered her mouth with his again, tugging her nipple at the same time.
 

Then he was gone, his hands, his mouth, his thigh. She opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed when she heard the sound of his pants hitting the ground. Before she had a chance to admire his form, from the circular tattoo below his left shoulder to the light brown hair scattered on his chest, narrowing to an arrow at his flat belly, his arm was around her. He held her against him as he tugged the blankets from her cot and pooled them on the ground, then lowering her to them and rising over her.
 

He unfastened her pants with one hand, and reached inside, sliding beneath her cotton panties. A smirk of male satisfaction appeared when she bucked against him, so ready. He dragged her pants down her legs, all business, pausing only to unlace her boots and toss them aside. He grabbed his pack, rummaged inside a moment before coming up with a condom. She barely had time to remember their raid on the drug store before he had sheathed himself and was over her, against her, inside her.

It had been so long, and she did her best to hide the pinch at his invasion, but he must have seen the expression on her face, because he stilled, giving her a moment to get used to him, to the weight of him, the pulse of him inside her. Only when she reached up to cup his face, feeling the bristle of stubble against her palm, the same stubble she wanted to sting her throat and breasts, did he move.

Like before, his movements weren’t gentle as he thrust into her, drawing one of her legs up so it rested against his waist, so she could take him deeper, so he could press more fully against her, against the part of her that needed his touch. She met his strokes, as hungry as he was, as eager, her hands stroking over the tattoo, caressing his back, feeling the movement of his muscles before closing over his ass, holding him to her, surging against him again and again, desperate. His gaze didn’t waver from hers, keeping her connected to him.

Then his fingers slipped between them, dragged over her and she exploded, hot and hard, the orgasm rolling over her, through her, into him. He stilled for a moment, then pounded harder, deeper, and she met him thrust for thrust until he stilled, holding her hips in his hands as he came. She felt the shudders roll through him, all of him, and then he pulled out to collapse on the blankets beside her.